


Stripes Aren't My Color

by loveandbeloved



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Delinquent! Liam, M/M, Policeman!Zayn, and he gets arrested, and things go from there, and zayn get curious, for very good reasons, liam is angry at the world, zayn is actually a rookie and more of a secretary but yeah
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-20 22:01:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17030793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loveandbeloved/pseuds/loveandbeloved
Summary: Zayn Malik is a young, stylish policeman who comes from a rich background. One day in the station, he encounters a troublemaker named Liam who often stirs up trouble in one of the poorer districts in London. Zayn takes pity on him and bails him out when he's off duty, and that's when he learns why Liam does what he does. He then has to decide if he wants to forget the pretty criminal or use his money for something more than designer shoes and flashy watches.





	Stripes Aren't My Color

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! I know it's been a long time since I posted a Ziam fic, but I'm finally on break so you'll be seeing more of me again! 
> 
> This fic is dedicated to the lovely Veruska; she's one of the sweetest people on the internet & I'm so happy I get to be her friend (she puts up with me so I wrote her a fic lmao) Thanks for the prompt babe!! <3
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy!
> 
> *Disclaimer* Idk the process to actually bail someone out of jail so I just made it up. Sorry if I portrayed it incorrectly; feel free to correct me in the comments lol

It’s not that Liam goes looking for trouble. He’s not a messy person, really. But sometimes, opportunities fall into his lap and he can’t help himself.

He doesn’t want to do it, but he does.

It’s never anything big. Just enough to help out. And if swiping a few bucks from an entitled rich man who can’t be bothered to tip his waitress or pocketing a bracelet from a snooty older woman who treats their community like it’s disgusting will help, Liam will do it.

The first time he ever vandalized anywhere, he did it in a fit of rage. Week after week, he watched as a rich businessman demanded that his landlords raise the price of rent in several of his buildings until it was unbearable for all of his tenants.

He could have let them all live there for free for months and his bank account wouldn’t have known the difference, but greed warps people, and as a result, the renters were choosing between paying their bills and feeding their children, and Liam had enough.

So he bought a can of red spray paint and drove across town to where he knew the man worked. His offices are very visible, and Liam knew that the press would pick up on any hint of a scandal.

He felt no remorse as he slashed the words across the fancy glass windows and doors at the front of the building, the red paint dripping down and bleeding like Liam’s heart bleeds for his community.

And it worked too.

The next afternoon, all of the papers were decorated with pictures of the office building, drawing the rich man’s morality into question because of two simple sentences:

STOP RAISING RENT IN HACKNEY. CHILDREN ARE STARVING BECAUSE OF YOU.

The landlords quickly announced that rent was back to its initial price, and Liam felt grimly satisfied that at least he had one way to get a point across to the other man.

But vigilante justice is far more difficult than it looks in the comics, and Liam has his own bills to pay and his own job to keep. So he gets tired, and angry, and more reckless than before.

He assumed that trying to keep the whole community from giving up would be a chore. After all, distributing funds to those who need them most and keeping track of all the ways that people are suffering due to the community they were born into isn’t easy, and neither is keeping his temper in check.

But what Liam didn’t anticipate at all is getting caught.

***

His wrists are chaffing, and Zayn winces in sympathy as he watches the way that the handcuffs dig into the man’s skin as he’s hauled inside.

He looks young, but when their eyes meet, Zayn can see wisdom and suffering beyond his years in the other man’s gaze. On the other hand, the patrol officer barely glances at Zayn as he tosses a pile of paperwork at him, keeping a firm hand on the younger man’s bicep.

His fingers dig in cruelly and Zayn frowns as he shoves until he’s pressed face first against one of the pillars around the front desk of the station. Zayn hasn’t interacted with this officer very much, but he assumes that he has a long history with the younger man to be treating him so roughly.

“Hope you didn’t have any plans this afternoon because I don’t think your mummy and daddy will be able to make your bail,” the man simpers, before turning to Zayn and holding out his hand for the booking paperwork.

“What a shame,” the man says dryly, his voice muffled from the angle, “and stripes aren’t a good look on me, either.”

Zayn laughs softly as he hands the officer a few papers to sign, appreciating the sense of humor when normally all they get at this stage is swearing or silence. He murmurs, “they aren’t for most people,” in response, but the other officer just rolls his eyes.

He drops the pen unceremoniously when he’s done and turns his attention back to the criminal, yanking at his arms until they are almost bent at an unnatural angle and forcing him to turn. There’s pain clear on the man’s face, but he doesn’t make a sound.

“Whatever, let’s go,” he spits, and then the boy is gone back into the cell block, and Zayn is alone again.

***

Zayn glances down at the paperwork in front of him for the fifth time in as many minutes. He can’t seem to focus on his computer screen or any of the profiles that he’s meant to be consolidating into their new system.

Instead, he just wants to know more about Payne, Liam, J.

He’s not in the system, meaning he’s never been arrested before, and all the information Zayn has is what’s written down in front of him. His name, birth date, and what he’s charged with. Liam is younger than him by half a year and he’s been brought in for misdemeanor vandalism. He could face up to a year in jail depending on the severity, but in terms of the crimes that Zayn has seen, it’s small and insignificant.

It didn’t explain why the officer who brought him in was treating him like a hardened criminal. He keyed a car, for Christ’s sake, he didn’t murder anyone.

There’s a commotion over by the coffee pot and Zayn glances up to see the officer who arrested Liam getting slapped on the back by another officer.

“Hey! Heard you finally caught that Payne kid in the act!” the second man laughs heartily, “it’s about time!”

The smile that blooms on the first officer’s face makes Zayn’s stomach roll.

“Yeah, I got him good,” the man chuckles, “hopefully that street rat will be gone for a while and the whole department can breathe easy for a bit.”

“He’s barely worth the time it takes to arrest him if I’m being honest, but I bet it felt good to slap those handcuffs on him.”

“For sure, it was a long time coming,” the first officer agrees, smiling happily as if he’s discussing weekend plans and not an arrest.

“I still remember back when Old Man Wilson’s wife was robbed over there in that district and I could see it in his eyes that he was the one that did it, but he didn’t have the bracelet on him. Wasn’t in his dingy little apartment either,” the second man scoffs.

“Oh yeah, is that when you broke down his door too?” the officer begins to cackle. “Stupid kid almost cried. Probably doesn’t know how to fix it, that’s how dumb he is.”

Zayn frowns as the second officer begins to laugh along.

“Well, if he would just mind his own business, it wouldn’t have happened,” he says with a shrug.

“Right! And don’t even get me started on all the spray painting bullshit,” the second man makes a sound of agreement as he reaches for the coffee pot. “He acts like he’s a hero when really he’s a little punk with a spray can. George almost had him that one time outside of the Perkins’ tower but he’s out of shape and the brat got away.”

The second officer takes a sip of his coffee, sighing and then shaking his head. “Honestly he’s just doing all that for attention. Trying to make some dumb political point and scare all the businessmen into submission for nothing.”

The comment is curious to Zayn though. He glances up again just briefly, before looking at his computer again, trying to look like he’s not eavesdropping. Why would he need to vandalize buildings like that for attention?

“He needs knocked down a few pegs,” the first officer agrees.

“What he really needs is a good talking to from his dad,” the second man laughs evilly, and Zayn shudders as they both laugh and then go their separate ways.

It seems like they have a long history with Liam, and the comment about his dad especially was pointed, but he has no idea why, and he’s not about to go and ask.

His supervisor appears out of the corner of Zayn’s eyes a few minutes later and he shakes himself before getting back to work.  At first,  Zayn really thought the remark about Liam’s parents was just a joke but Zayn’s shift ends at six that evening, eight hours after the younger man was brought, and no one has come for Liam.

Zayn’s replacement, Niall, a loud cheery man who doesn’t have the stomach for field work comes in just before six, and Zayn leaves, lingering a bit longer than normal before heading out.

He picks up some takeout and goes home to have dinner alone in his apartment. For some reason it seems emptier than usual, but Zayn just ignores it, changing into some clothes that are more comfortable before settling down with his food in front of the TV. The cooking show does little to distract him from his thoughts, however.

It eats at him until he’s picking up his keys less than an hour later and getting back in the car to drive to the station. Twice during the short drive he thinks about how crazy he’s acting and almost turns around, but before he knows it, he’s back in front of the desk, greeting Niall.

“Zayn!” he says in surprise, “what are you doing back here? Forget something?”

Zayn just shakes his head sheepishly. “Actually I’m here to bail someone out,” he says lowly, glancing over to make sure that there are no patrol officers around to overhear.

“Oh,” Niall says, considering, “a friend?”

“Something like that,” Zayn agrees vaguely. “His name is Liam Payne, was brought in this afternoon for vandalism.” He nods towards Niall’s computer and his fingers are a blur on the keyboard as he pulls up the younger man’s information.

“Gotcha,” Niall says easily, taking Zayn’s card when he offers it and swiping it. He hands a receipt to Zayn to sign and prints discharge papers for the officers running the cell block.

“I’m gonna run these to the boys in the back,” Niall says standing. “You can wait behind the desk if you want, or wherever.”

Niall disappears into the back and Zayn sits down on a bench on the other side of the desk, closer to the exit so he can intercept Liam when he comes. He’s sure the younger man will have lots of questions when he’s brought out.

It’s several minutes before Niall returns, chirping, “it will be just a minute,” before settling back into his seat at the desk. He sets to work on the huge stack of papers that Zayn had been slowly making his way through all day. They’ve been working on them for a few weeks now and the finish line is finally visible, which means that Niall is a bit more focused on his work and not as chatty as usual.

And it’s all the same to Zayn, because he is too nervous to make decent conversation right now if he’s being honest. He doesn’t know why, but there are butterflies in his stomach as he waits.

Liam appears a few minutes later, accompanied by one of the nighttime officers that Zayn vaguely recognizes. He mutters a brief, “you’re free to go,” and the words are barely out of his mouth before Liam is pulling away from him and making a beeline towards the door.

He walks straight past Zayn, not acknowledging him at all even though he stands to greet him. It takes Zayn by surprise to be honest, because he doesn’t seem grateful in the slightest as he shoves the door open and disappears into the night. He lurches into action as he realizes that he might lose the other man entirely if he doesn’t follow him immediately.

“See you in the morning, Ni!” Zayn calls, dashing out after him.

Liam is already halfway across the parking lot, heading towards the center of town instead of the district that Zayn knows he lives in. His hands are tucked into his pockets, shoulders hunched to brace against the cold air of the night.

“Hey, wait!” Zayn yells, breaking into a run. Liam doesn’t pause, though. In fact he makes no indication that he heard Zayn at all, but he refuses to give up that easily. He catches the younger man, grabbing him by the elbow to slow him.

Liam rips his arm away from Zayn’s grasp and whips around, glaring at him like the older man personally offended him.

“What?” he spits, spiteful, and he crosses his arms to stop Zayn from touching him again. Every inch of him screams defensiveness and annoyance.

“I-“ Zayn stutters, taken aback, because whatever he expected, it was certainly not this. And to be truthful, he’s not really sure what he wants from the other man.

“Why are you even here?” Liam demands, and Zayn can see the boiling rage in his eyes as he looks at Zayn like he disgusts him.

“Did you expect a thank you?” he continues, patronizing, “maybe you wanted me to get down on my knees and show you how g _rateful_ I am that you took pity on me with my mouth?”

Zayn recoils at the venom in his voice, but what really horrifies him is that he easily could have been expected to do that if Zayn had been anyone else. “What? No! I would never,” he says weakly, and he hopes his face shows how disgusted he is by the idea of that.

Liam regards him silently for a few moments, and Zayn must pass some kind of test because he nods once. “Well then, why?” he insists, and Zayn falters again.

There’s no good way to explain it, because even to Zayn himself it sounds crazy. ‘I couldn’t stop thinking of you’ ‘I want to make you happy’ and ‘I want to know why you do what you do’ all make him sound like the psycho stalker that he isn’t.

“You needed help,” he settles for, but rather than accepting that answer, Liam rolls his eyes and snorts.

“What do you know about needing anything, rich boy?” Liam asks, taking a step towards Zayn for a change, and for the first time during their exchange, Zayn stops to wonder if he’s actually safe or if Liam really is a dangerous criminal.

“I bet you’ve never needed anything in your life,” Liam continues, faux-casual. “You were probably born into the life of luxury if those clothes are any indication.” He nods at Zayn’s outfit, and the older man flushes. So what, he’s wearing a rather expensive sweater and a pair of shoes that may or may not cost more than some people’s monthly rent. It’s not a crime to look nice.

“Let me tell you something about real need,” Liam murmurs, his voice strangely intimate for a discussion in the parking lot of a police station. “Because where I live, it’s everywhere. People starve to feed their kids, and everyone is at the mercy of employers and landlords because they need to have income and somewhere to sleep at night.”

Zayn’s eyes widen as Liam begins to paint a picture of life on the other side of the tracks, a world where equality was disregarded in favor of greed and capitalism. A world where people live paycheck to paycheck and they are one unexpected disaster away from being hungry and homeless.

“It’s impossible to get a full education too. Most kids drop out to work, and no matter how smart you are or how much _potential_ your teachers tell you that you have, you’ll wind up bussing tables or in a factory by the time you’re sixteen. Or if you’re lucky, like me, you’ll get to be a manager at a run-down grocery store where you can choose to take food instead of money, tax free.”

Zayn tries to picture Liam running a grocery store, and the image is incompatible with the picture he has of the younger man in his head.

“Tell me,” Liam pauses, and Zayn is sure that if he knew his name, Liam would have caressed the syllables with his tongue for emphasis, “can you imagine what it would be like to go to work every single day at a store and know that it’s your entire future? That you’ll never amount to anything more because you’ve never been given any decent opportunities in your entire life and you have to e _at_ and live somewhere?”

Zayn shakes his head, murmuring, “I can’t” as he tries to think about how discouraging and depressing that would be. No wonder Liam is angry.

“No one is waiting to bail us out if we need it,” Liam continues. “People say they want to help the poor but once they get a good look at us, they run the other way.”

He shakes his head in disgust, his eyes far away, and Zayn wonders who he’s thinking of.

“And if you ever need money for something extra, you might as well just give up. No matter how important it is, people will turn you away as soon as they realize you can’t pay for things upfront. Even if it’s a matter of life and death.”

The anguish on Liam’s face is almost tangible in the space between them. His eyes are huge and wet with tears that Zayn is sure he won’t actually cry, but it doesn’t stop his own eyes from prickling in sympathy. He looks painfully young in the moonlight.

“You heard the guy who said my parents wouldn’t be coming to bail me out, right?” he asks, and Zayn instantly doesn’t like where the conversation is heading, but he nods anyways, unable to refuse Liam when he’s clearly trying to make a point.

Liam nods in return, once, and steels himself. “When I was fifteen, my dad caught pneumonia,” he says softly, and Zayn’s heart sinks. “And we had no extra money. We were barely eating once a day as it was. We couldn’t afford to go to the doctor or get him any medicine.”

His eyes slip closed, and Zayn lets a tear fall down his own cheek as he imagines Liam, young and innocent, knowing that his father is doomed to die and not being able to do a damn thing about it.

“I worked my fingers to the bone to get as much money as I could, and I looked for a doctor who would see him when I wasn’t at my job. I barely slept or ate for two weeks, and in the end it didn’t matter. He died in his sleep a week before my sixteenth birthday. No one wanted to help us then, and no one really wants to help us now, either.” Liam’s hands are shaking, and Zayn has never wanted to protect a person more in his life.

Liam doesn’t even know him, but he’s telling him things that are so, so personal. Zayn wonders if it’s the first time he’s ever told anyone about his dad, and what makes him, a rich stranger, worthy of this valuable information in Liam’s eyes.

Zayn can see how much it means to him, and he can also see the way that Liam gets a hold on himself and slowly begins to rebuild the walls around himself until his face is expressionless and his eyes are carefully blank.

“I didn’t ask for your help, because I would have been fine,” he says woodenly. “We all do what we have to do to survive.”

He disappears into the night without another word, and Zayn watches him go, his stomach churning as the weight of all that he’s learned sinks in.

***

Liam’s words haunt him long after the other man is gone. He feels stirred to action, but at the same time he’s never felt so useless, because he has no clue what to do. He’s been handed a million problems with no way to solve them.

Zayn stews for two days, preoccupied during work and restless at home, until he finally comes to a decision. He’s off the next day, and instead of laying around his apartment or going to visit his parents like usual, he heads towards Hackney.

Liam didn’t say what grocery store he works in, but there can’t be all that many and most likely he’ll be on duty in the mid-morning to make sure everything is taken care of for the rest of the day.

The first grocery store he walks into is more of convenience store when he gets instead. It’s musty and dingy, and it makes Zayn shudder. The clerk eyes him with dead eyes, and when he asks if Liam is a manager there, he’s met with blank silence and a simple shake of the head.

He buys a pack of skittles so he doesn’t look strange, and leaves.

The next store is similar to the first and is only a few blocks away. Again, he goes to the checkout first and asks the employee about a manager named Liam. The girl is far nicer, apologizing when she tells him that none of their managers are named Liam. He buys more candy, M&M's this time, and leaves.

And so it goes. He’s amazed by the sheer number of stores in one district. None of them really qualify for what Zayn would consider to be a grocery store considering none of them offer fresh fruits or vegetables, or any kind of non-processed food really, but he figures rather safe than sorry.

He buys more candy than he knows what to do with just so he doesn’t look weird, but after a while he begins to think that having sweets bulging out of his pockets might look just as weird.

It’s early afternoon when he finally finds him, stocking shelves near the back of the store right where the clerk directed him to. He’s wearing a t-shirt with the name of the store and pair of jeans with sneakers that have definitely seen better days, but to Zayn, he looks like an angel.

“Liam,” he breathes as he approaches, but he must be louder than he realizes because the younger man whips his head around and then does a double take as he sees Zayn standing in front of him.

“You,” he whispers, his brow furrowing in confusion. “What are you doing here?”

“Looking for you,” Zayn replies easily. “I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said and I really would like to know more about this community,” he says, preparing to launch into all the things he’s thought about over the past couple days.

Liam holds up his hand though, shaking his head.

“I can’t talk now. I’m working,” he says, and he looks apologetic. His words about being at the mercy of employers comes back to Zayn, and he quickly nods in understand.

“Let me buy you coffee, then?” Zayn asks, aware that he’s being a bit too eager but he can’t help it. There’s feeling in his chest that he can’t quite explain just from being around Liam.

“I don’t drink coffee,” Liam mutters, glancing down at the can in his hand and then turning back to his work. He slides it into place in the shelf, and Zayn feels like he’s losing him even with the younger man standing within arm’s reach.

“Late lunch?” he suggests quickly, adding a small “please,” in so he doesn’t come across as too demanding.

Liam regards him suspiciously for a few moments, before murmuring, “my shift ends at 9,” and Zayn wants to fist pump in victory.

It’s eight hours from now, which gives Zayn plenty of time to gather his thoughts and pick out a good place for them to eat.

“I’ll be back then,” Zayn says simply. “And I’ll let you get back to your work.”

He takes a step backwards before Liam is stopping him. “Wait,” he says suddenly, and Zayn freezes. “I don’t even know your name.”

“Zayn,” he says sheepishly. He can’t believe that he forget to introduce himself properly, and Liam seems to think it’s pretty funny too if the amused glint in his eye is any indication.

Liam nods to himself. “See you at nine Zayn,” he says with a small smile, and Zayn thinks that his name sounds infinitely better when it’s coming out of Liam’s mouth. He floats on cloud nine for the rest of the day.

***

In the end, all of his planning for the restaurant goes to waste. He had been wanting to take Liam somewhere he doesn’t get to go often, but Liam quietly asks if they can go to little diner just down the road from the store, and Zayn easily agrees, not wanting to upset the other man before they even started talking.

The diner is small, but homey, and Liam greets both of the waitresses by name as they settle in a booth in the corner.

Zayn takes his time looking at the menu, but Liam doesn’t even open his, instead taking in their surroundings with an air of relaxation around him. He must come here often, Zayn guesses, and he feels touched that Liam wanted to share another piece of his life with him.

After they order, the waitress leaves to get their drinks and Liam turns his full attention to Zayn instead, leaning forward onto his elbows that are resting on the table as he studies Zayn. He finds himself flushing under the intense gaze of the younger man, but he’s also unable to look away.

Liam is beautiful in a very _normal_ way, if that makes sense. He doesn’t stand out from the crowd necessarily, but he’s gorgeous when you really look at him. He’s got deep brown eyes and an angular jaw that frames his pouty pink lips in a way that makes him all the more enticing. Zayn also notes the strength in his arms, thinks of the way that his thighs had strained against his jeans in the store either, and he has to stop himself from going too far down that road.

Liam is attractive, yes, but that’s not why Zayn is here. Zayn is here for the community, for Liam’s cause, not for Liam alone.

“So what did you want to talk about?” Liam asks, leaning back as their waitress drops their drinks off and hurries away.

“Well, I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said that other night, and you’re right,” Zayn begins. Liam quirks an eyebrow at Zayn, urging him to continue.

“I am a rich boy and I don’t know what it’s like to need basic things. But I am willing and able to help people in need. I just don’t know how.”

Liam’s eyebrows shoot up as he takes in the seriousness of the man in front of him. He can probably tell how rich Zayn is just judging by his clothes, the watch on his wrist and the rings on his fingers. He’s not joking about being able, and he was interested enough to seek Liam out, which is more than most people.

“How do I know you’re here to help and not here for something else?” Liam wonders, watching Zayn closely to see how he reacts. Zayn flushes, but he clenches his jaw in determination.

“If I didn’t want to help, I wouldn’t be here, but,” he hesitates, glancing away before admitting, “I don’t have any way to prove my motivations to you. You’ll just have to trust me.”

He looks back to Liam and sees the apprehensiveness on his face at the prospect of having to trust a near-stranger, and Zayn is suddenly filled with an intense need to prove himself to the younger man.

“I could have asked around, but I feel like you’ve got the best grip on the problems in this area, and obviously we aren’t complete strangers anymore,” he pauses for a moment, trying to show how sincere he is. “ I just want to know, what does this community need?”

“Reliable healthcare,” Liam answers immediately, and Zayn’s thoughts instantly go to Liam’s own personal experience with desperately needing a doctor and not having anyone around. “We need a food bank to help families make ends meet, especially in winter months when they have to pay for heating on top of their regular bills.”

Liam is looking out of the window, but Zayn can see the wheels turning in his head. He jerks out a pen and begins to take notes on one of the napkins on the table, not wanting to forget anything.

“Honestly just better housing in general would help so much,” Liam continues, “and also policies to stop landlords from taking advantage of people in need. And childcare for parents who need to work and can’t find anyone to watch their kids.”

Zayn nods in acknowledgement, his tongue peeking out as he concentrates on writing as fast as he can.

“I think the younger kids would benefit from better education too. When they get into upper grades, a lot of them have learning difficulties and it makes it more appealing for them to drop out rather than trying to pursue higher education.”

Zayn hums, underlining education twice, and then pausing, his hand poised to keep writing. When Liam doesn’t say anything, he looks up and realizes that Liam isn’t looking out the window anymore. Instead he’s staring down at the list at Zayn is making with an emotion that Zayn can’t place on his face.

He looks back down at his list too, taking in all of the areas of need. He cocks his head to one side, his lips pulling down into a small frown.

“Do you have a community center? I think that would hit several points on this list,” he wonders, and Liam snorts in response.

“Nope. Community centers are for rich districts. We’re lucky to have a couple parks,” he says wistfully, and Zayn nods thoughtfully, an idea already forming in his mind.

They get their food soon after, and as they eat, the diner gradually empties out until it’s just Zayn and Liam left with the staff. It’s quiet, and Zayn doesn’t know if Liam is interested in small talk, but he’s also surprisingly comfortable with the silence as they enjoy their meal.

Liam eats quickly, far quicker than Zayn, and he winds up offering to share some of his fries just so Liam isn’t awkwardly watching him eat. The younger man accepts gratefully, scarfing them down, and it makes Zayn younger when Liam’s last decent meal was.

He finishes up and as they wait for the waitress to emerge from the back with their bill, Zayn pulls out a pack of M&M’s from his pocket and offers them to Liam.

“For dessert,” he says shrugging, and when Liam looks at him doubtfully, Zayn explains that he felt bad going in places without buying something.

“I’ve bought more candy today than I have in the past six months, I think,” Zayn says with a small laugh, and that gets the younger man to crack a real smile for the first time all night.

When the waitress brings their bill, Liam reaches for it, but Zayn snatches it away before he can take it, insisting that it’s his treat. Liam looks like he wants to argue, but Zayn tips his chin down, steeling himself for an argument, and Liam relents.

He’s out the door before Zayn can even pull out his wallet, murmuring “thanks” as he swiftly rises and leaves. Zayn doesn’t even have time to protest or ask for his number.

Zayn pays, thanking the waitress for letting them stay so long, and he takes in her worn out shoes and the exhausted look on her face as she disappears into the back with their dirty plates. He makes sure to leave a tip that’s over twice the cost of their meal, emptying the remaining cash in his wallet.

He doesn’t notice the figure watching him from outside the diner, and so he doesn’t see the light in Liam’s eyes as he watches the older man pass a test that he didn’t even know he was taking. He disappears into the night when Zayn heads for the door.

The wind is cold and harsh against his face when he steps out into the night, and it leaves a tight feeling in his chest to see Liam running away from him again, even if he knows where to find him now.

***

The next evening after work, Zayn goes to his parents’ home for dinner.

They live in an older part of London, in a district with huge houses and gated driveways and snooty neighbors, and while Zayn appreciates the architecture, he is happy that he chose to move into an apartment in a more moderate area.

His mother kisses him on the cheek and his father draws him into a long hug that Zayn sinks into happily, and his eyes prickle when he thinks about Liam and the fact that he’ll never be able to hug his dad again.

“What’s wrong, darling?” his mother asks, fussing over him when she sees the red tint to his nose that gives away his emotions.

And before he can stop himself, he’s spilling everything to them. He tells them about Liam and how he was arrested and couldn’t pay to get out. He tells about how Liam had explained how much his district is struggling and how no one will help. He speaks about what he say the day before, walking down streets that were so run down he couldn’t believe they were still used.

When he tells them about what the community needs, pulling out his napkin with his notes to show them, his father smiles softly.

“Beta,” he says gently, stopping Zayn from rambling. “This Liam sounds like a very special boy to be fighting so hard for his community.”

“He is,” Zayn agrees passionately.

“And a community center sounds like a perfect start,” his mother chimes in. “We can have someone start looking for land in the morning? It will need to be fairly big but I’m sure there will be something we can work with.”

Zayn blinks twice, before asking, “wait, you mean you’ll do it?”

His father laughs, squeezing his wife’s hand, and she nods at him happily. “Of course. It’s been too long since we did something charitable, and it would be nice to get involved in a project like this. Especially if it means so much to you.”

Zayn throws himself at his parents, clinging to them as he murmurs his thanks. He’s been prepared to ask for his inheritance early to fund the project, and this is more than he ever expected.

“We’ll have to meet with some planners and contractors, but we’ll give you whatever you need, sweetheart. We’ll talk to some of our friends too and see if they want to sponsor a park or something.”

“That would be amazing,” Zayn says, thinking of how far he walked today. In all that time, he didn’t come across a single park.

“Do you have any idea who could run such a place? That will be a full time job,” his father asks, but his tone is suggestive, and Zayn smiles faintly.

“I know just the man,” he murmurs, picturing the rich, brown eyes that are already burned into his mind.

***

Five Years Later

***

There’s screaming from the other room, shrieks of joy from toddlers who are learning how to use finger paints, and Liam smiles faintly as he hears Harry, one of their volunteers, let out a dramatic wail in response. Liam has no doubt that Harry will be leaving covered in paint.

Volunteers help on a scheduled basis for the most part, just due to organization, and he recognizes both of the helpers that herd a rowdy group of preschoolers inside towards the carpeted area that Liam is waiting at.

“Everyone take a seat!” he calls, pointing to the squares in front of him. They are all labeled with a letter of the alphabet and each child is assigned one. It’s an easy way to take attendance and get them somewhat organized.

The kids are sweaty, cheeks flushed from the summer heat outside, and they chatter with each other as they find their squares. A few of them greet Liam before staring at the man next to him with wide, curious eyes.

“Quiet down, guys,” Liam says, commanding the attention of the group. “We have a special guest here today.”

He gestures towards the man next to him, smiling gently. “This is Officer Malik and he’s here to talk about safety for when you start going to school in the fall.”

Zayn raises his hand to greet the group, smiling widely, but he doesn’t get a single word out before he’s interrupted by a young boy raising his hand to ask a question.

The boy is small for his age and he’s wearing small glasses that make his eyes look owlish. “Why is his last name the same as yours, Liam?” he asks in a soft voice.

Zayn looks at Liam for guidance, and Liam answers easily.

“Because Officer Malik is my husband.”

“Husband?” A girl near the back of the group asks in confusion, wrinkling her nose. “But you’re a boy.”

Zayn tenses, not expecting to face homophobia from a group of preschoolers, of all people. He has to stop himself from getting defensive on Liam’s behalf as much as his own, because he knows that the younger man is sensitive when it comes to people attacking their relationship.

Liam doesn’t seem bothered though, his face the picture of patience as he nods serenely.  

“I am,” Liam agrees. “You know how your mom and dad are husband and wife because they love each other? Well Officer Malik and I are the same, but we are husband and husband instead, because we’re both boys.”

The explanation is simple, leaving out the fact that up until a few years before, it wasn’t even legal to be husband and husband, and even now it’s frowned upon in a lot of districts, and the girls looks thoughtful as she absorbs and processes the new information. She nods once in acceptance and Liam shoots her a thumbs up to make her smile.

Zayn can’t stop the hearts in his eyes from showing, because Liam is so good at his job, and it never fails to amaze him when he sees the younger man in action. He calls on other boy with his hand in the air, waving frantically to get Liam’s attention.

“So if you’re married, do you hold his hand?” the boy asks, curious, and Zayn smiles.

“I do,” Liam affirms, reaching for Zayn’s hand, the metal on his ring finger glimmering in the light as he does.

“And you kiss him?” a girl shouts, which makes the class explode. Most of the kids let out a long “EWWWW” and some of them pull faces that make Zayn giggle.

Liam rolls his eyes but Zayn can see the blush on his cheeks. Even after all these years, he’s still very private about their love life. Zayn thinks it’s because when he was younger, anything that made him happy was taken away one way or another, and Liam is trying to protect them. He thinks it’s precious, but also, he wishes there was a way to reassure Liam that he isn’t going anywhere, no matter what happens.

The children titter amongst themselves, and Liam catches snippets of their conversations. They’re mostly random comparisons to their own parents and innocent questions like “my mom kisses my dad too and it’s gross,” or “I wonder if they have a puppy at their house like we do.”

The boy who asked the very first question raises his hand again, and Liam nods at him in acknowledgement.

“Will you have babies too just like my mom and dad?” he asks, his eyes wide and innocent, and Liam chokes on air, his face turning bright red.

It’s not something they’ve talked about extensively, but lately Liam has been thinking a lot about starting their own family. He spends all day with children of all ages, and he knows that he and Zayn will make great parents. But there’s a difference between thinking about raising children and applying for adoption. It’s a huge leap, and Liam doesn’t know if they are quite ready yet.

Because he can sense Liam’s discomfort, Zayn swoops in and takes control of the situation. “We’ll get back to you on that, babe,” he says brightly, “but right now, let’s talk about safety, shall we?”

He claps his hands together, transitioning into his presentation mode, and easily directs the conversation in another direction to distract all of the curious eyes from Liam.

“Who here knows how to ride a bike? Or a tricycle?” he asks, and almost every hand in the group shoots up, the children eager to share their abilities with the new adult.

Liam steps back to watch with a fond smile on his face, still a bit flushed, and he’s grateful that his husband knows how to deflect attention away from him when he gets uncomfortable. He dips his hand into his pocket and pulls out a few M&M’s that Zayn brought him for a snack.

He stands behind the group of kids as Zayn teaches them how to signal a turn with their hands and picks a volunteer to demonstrate putting on a helmet. He’s very gentle with his fingers as he tightens the straps under the little girl’s chin, and Liam feels something that can only be love and adoration in his chest as he watches the interaction.

Liam feels so lucky and blessed, and days like this are almost overwhelming in emotional intensity. He’s grown so much and the entire district has too. The community is thriving now, and Liam feels like a proud parents watching each new development.

Several new businesses have opened up within the past year, and a few months ago, a new apartment complex was finished just two blocks away from the community center. With it came a whole new group of kids who were so excited to meet Liam and tour the facility and play with the other children.

The district council just approved using a government grant to remodel the elementary school that’s nearby, and Liam has heard murmurs that they will also be hiring more staff to better serve the population, which is very much needed. The last he heard, some teachers had almost thirty students in one class, and there’s no way one person can help that many at once.

The center itself is now supported by multiple generous donors, thanks to the cause being made public news by Zayn’s parents. When the situation was brought to light by what the public considered to be a credible source, people realized what serious issues that community was going through, and donations came flooding in.

There’s a food bank that’s attached to the rear of the building and it’s always packed with food that’s been donated by grocery stores or food drives in more affluent areas. Once a week, the center also hosts a community dinner, where everyone is invited to come and share a meal, which Liam loves. It’s amazing to be able to meet needs and connect the community at the same time.

Also, he loves seeing Zayn all hot and sweaty in the kitchen, trying frantically to make sure they have enough food to feed everyone despite multiple reassurances that they definitely do from Liam himself. It’s cute. Liam’s husband is c _ute_ , and god, Liam is so smitten.

The Malik’s also made it possible for him to get a degree in elementary education too, by making it a contingency of his employment. His salary started out pretty low and would increase as soon as he finished his degree.

Liam went back to school first to get his GCSE’s, and he cried when he received his acceptance letter to college just a few short weeks later. Zayn was extremely supportive throughout his three year program, and by the end of it, they were living together and Zayn already had the rings to propose.

He puts his degree to use in the summers, to make sure that the children don’t get behind in their studies. The center even employs a few part time reading and math teachers to help out those who struggle.

At least once a week, Liam and Zayn make sure to have dinner with the Malik’s, and Liam always gets roped into helping Zayn’s mother in the kitchen. Zayn grumbles that his parents love Liam more than him, and Liam can’t help but giggle at the petulant look on his face.

And every time Zayn’s father refers to Liam and Zayn as “his sons”, whether it be at a public function or in the privacy of their own home, Liam turns red with a violent blush and can’t stop smiling, and Zayn teases him. He’s sure that both Zayn and his parents know how much it means to him to be able to call them his family, too, which makes his chest feel tight with emotions that he can’t quite place.

Liam just feels incredibly lucky.

He smiles as he watches Zayn teach the kids a song about stranger danger and has them sing along, directing them like a little choir. Liam would love to record them, but Zayn is incredibly shy about his singing, and he thinks Zayn might actually strangle him in bed tonight if he knows he’s got a video of him singing.

It’s kind of weird seeing Zayn on this side of the center, because normally he helps out on his off days in the kitchen or supply areas, but Liam thinks he likes the change. Maybe Zayn would be interested in running an arts and crafts session a couple times a week.

Or maybe he’ll insist that his husband stay home every once in a while, so he’ll actually finish some of the stories that he’s been working on. Almost five years before, shortly after asking Liam on a date for the first time, Zayn decided he didn’t want to be on the force anymore.

“They aren’t the kind of people that I want to associate with, I don’t think,” Zayn had admitted later, and if Liam hadn’t already been sold on the older man, that would have sealed the deal. It took a little more than three years for them to actually get engaged, but Liam would have said yes instantly, had Zayn gotten down on his knee that same night.

Now, Zayn uses his former police training and volunteers as a safety officer for schools, and in his spare time, he writes. The first story that Zayn wrote was theirs, and he gave it to Liam the day he proposed. Unbeknownst to Liam, Zayn had already written his plan for the proposal within the pages of story, and if Liam had the time, he could have read it and spoiled his own engagement.

He liked the surprise, but he also found the gesture to be extremely romantic, and Liam made sure that Zayn was thoroughly rewarded for his thoughtfulness that night. The end of their story is still unwritten, but Liam knows that as they continue to have adventures, the pages will fill up, and that thought makes him happy.

Liam thinks that Zayn’s ideas are incredible, and if Zayn submitted his work to a company, he’d be published right away. Convincing his husband to send in a manuscript is going to be a long term job, however. Fortunately, Liam is up for the challenge. Zayn will forever be his favorite dilemma.

What’s really crazy, Liam thinks, is how much his life has changed in the past five years. He was a twenty two year old secondary school dropout with a dead end job, no desire for a partner, and no real outlook on his life. Now, he’s twenty seven, happily married, and college educated with a stable job.

If you told Liam, all those years ago when he was getting cuffed and read his rights, that things would end up like this, he would have laughed in your face. But now, he’s laughing for a completely different reason, and he couldn’t be happier.

“Leave him alone, Grayson!” Liam calls, rushing over to save his husband from an overbearing three year old who keeps tugging at his ponytail in fascination. Zayn’s face is half amused and half panicked, and Liam can’t help but chuckle as he frees the older man and gets pulled into a hug as thanks as the preschooler dashes off to terrorize someone else.

The grin on Liam’s face might be permanent at this point and he thinks that happiness is a really good look on him.

Much better than stripes.

 


End file.
